On opening night J¹ said she felt sad. “I don’t want to make art. It all… I don’t feel like making any anymore.”

Industrial Egyptpunk

Numbed ghosts walk by lots of found objects touched by a lesser Midas. A gallery plonked with faux ready-mades from the factory floor. Technically brilliant foundry work. Lovely copper. I get bored with people saying they are underwhelmed.

Beautiful.

I could make all of this. I would make none of this. I am a year older.

The pitch: Mad Max versus Stargate

Norman Mailer as a car, a character in an adaption of his own novel, see… like… you know… c.f. Ka, Egyptian soul-double. Ha-ha. Haw-haw. Crow bars as was:- bull’s blown bits as magical scepters, jawbreakers. But there is no release, no transfiguration. So us psychopomps, like K, flatline ___________________________

Homework

The Nile as an autobahn of progress, a physical series of tubes. Discuss.

Closing the book on his desk J² shakes his head, “If only Barney had joined the 27 club.” After dusk on Wednesday, J² pours petrol over his copy of The Cremaster Cycle, drops his joint and stands back but forgets to video it for youtube.

Satan’s Skin

Milton Moon covers the walls, “the devil gets the best tunes” we jest. It’s a shade, not a colour. Just wait until the flouros flicker.

J³ crumples into a corner groaning. He wants to cower but there are no shadows here. No hidden depths.

Remote control

I like process. I like review. I like books. There are copies of Barney’s tomes. He says this show is a bit remote. He says he is not a theatrical filmmaker, it’s about the objects. J² says there is nothing there. In the book of interviews Barney says he doesn’t do interviews. Or catalogs. Pick two.

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow

Pyramids as immortality machines; a form of conspicuous consumption showering society with law and order.

Or poo machines of fertility.

Either way, ancient eternal lives for the rich and powerful, opera for the bored in spirit; over-laboured, groaning, constipated, inappropriating, and signifying nothing.